Uncanny Tales – (089) Its Official, I’m An Old Man

 

I was sitting in my car, which was parked in a side road behind the church where I was waiting for my wife.

It was a “no through road” and its primary function was as an access road to the shops and its double yellow lines were designed to deter men from waiting for their wives but at six o’clock in the evening, we were there in numbers without fear of causing an obstruction.

It was a warm late afternoon/early evening in June and the bright sun beat down on the car and subsequently we were all sat with our windows down to benefit from the light breeze.

I was leant back in my seat, eyes closed against the sun, listening to the world cup chatter on the radio when I heard a car horn.

This was not an uncommon occurrence, there was always someone honking for something, I myself was no stranger to the use of the horn, so I didn’t open my eyes and continued to listen to the radio.

Then came a prolonged blast which did open my eyes and caused me to turn to see where it was coming from.

I had to crane my neck to see the source of the noise which was behind me and to the right.

A woman in a large salon car who was trying to exit a car park was waving her hand in an exaggerated gesture which I took to mean “can you move the car back”.

I arrived at this interpretation mainly because she shouted rather forcefully out of her open window.

“Move back, move back”.

Despite the fact I was not level with the entrance nor was I blocking it in anyway and had she got her positioning right she would have made the manoeuvre effortlessly,

I pointed out to her quite politely that she was only driving a saloon car and not a tank, but this fell on deaf ears, so she repeated her demand.

“Move back, move back”.

I acceded to her request and reversed back out of harm’s way but as she was making the turn she stopped and shouted to me through the passenger window.

I was expecting a thank you but instead she shouted in a voice somewhere between Caroline Langrishe and Margot Ledbetter.

“If I didn’t have my daughter in the car, I would have something to say to you, you silly old man”.

I was so taken aback by the superciliousness of her comment that I laughed.

This was not the response she was expecting which seemed to fluster her and she missed her gear.

“Are you not even a little bit embarrassed that you can’t manoeuvre yourself out of a car park”?

She eventually managed to find first gear and lurched forward but then found herself tight up behind the car that was parked in front of me before I moved.

I couldn’t resist the temptation and leant out of my window.

“Would you like me to ask him to move as well”?

She reversed back quickly then lurched forward again only to find she still couldn’t clear the parked car, so she threw it into reverse again and quickly shot forward.

To my shame the child in me applauded as did the driver of the car in front.

Then a jewelled hand appeared from the drivers’ window and extended a single digit and from the passenger side a smaller hand appeared and gave a thumbs up.

Then the brake lights came on as she violently braked sharply, at first, I thought she was going to engage us in some witty repartee or that she had noticed her daughters’ supportive gesture but no, it was just that she nearly ran down some poor unsuspecting pedestrian.

The driver of the other car and myself exchanged knowing looks and I chuckled to myself and was still chuckling when my wife arrived and got in the car.

Uncanny Tales – (085) An Unsuitable Candidate

 

It was a beautiful June evening when Ian Livesey was sat by the river in the beer garden of the Mulberry Tree in the village of Brocklington, about six miles downstream of the River Deighton when Angie Faulkner, who carried a torch for him, joined him at the table. 

“Hi Ian” she said, “I’m looking for a date for the Summer Ball”.

“You’re leaving it late” he said, “I can’t believe you’re struggling to find someone”.

“I was hoping it would be you” she said and smiled.

“That’s a terrible idea” Ian retorted.

“Why is it?”

“I never take a date to the Ball, I always go Stag, for obvious reasons” he pointed out.

“But you wouldn’t need to pick up a woman if you took me as your date, and then you could have me” Angie said. “So be my date”.

“No”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I am not dating material” Ian replied.

“But you’re my kind of material” she pleaded “You’ve always been the one for me”.

“I am not a suitable candidate for you”.

“Your perfect to me” she said.

“I’m a womanizer Angie”, Ian said “I’m not the boyfriend type”.

“But I’d be really happy if you were my boyfriend and wouldn’t care about your infidelity as long as you never touched my sisters, or my mother.”

And then almost as an afterthought she added, “Or my Aunt Agnes.”

“Isn’t she the one with the moustache?” he asked, and she laughed.

“Yes, but she has great tits” she pointed out.

“Fair Comment” he agreed.

Her sisters were six years old so were far too young to be candidates for his lust, but he hadn’t considered her mother or moustache Pete for that matter, although her mum was still quite fit, so under the right circumstance he might.

He was just digesting what she had said when he caught sight of one of the barmaids, collecting glasses and at that precise moment she bent over to pick up an empty glass and he could see up her skirt to her thonged womanhood.

“All I would want is your undivided attention when we were together” she said and punched him.

“Sorry” he said.

“That’s ok, you can look at her nonny” she said, “as long as when you got an erection, you’d give it to me.”

“Well, I’ll give it to someone” Ian said.

“Why not me?” she said angrily “Why can’t I be a notch in your headboard?”

“Because you’re better than that, you can do better than that”.

“But I want you” she said urgently. “I love you”.

“You might be happy to put up with my peccadilloes in the beginning, but a time would come, probably sooner rather than later, when you wouldn’t be” he said, “And then love will turn to hate”.

“But…” she began.

“I would just make you unhappy” Ian Said

“Save your love for someone who will cherish it, who will cherish you”.

Uncanny Tales – (082) Rejecting the Nanny State

 

The town of Shallowfield sat on the southern edge of the Finchbottom Vale and it had always relied largely upon forestry and agriculture for its prosperity, sitting as it was sandwiched between fertile farmland and the Dancingdean Forest.

This was reflected in Addison’s Cafe where Forester Paul Dyer was having breakfast with his farm labourer girlfriend Ellie Dyke.

Paul had just started tucking into his full English breakfast when Ellie finished her second bowl of muesli.

She had her phone on the table in front of her propped up against the flower vase and she was reading an article.

“Apparently today is “Eat What You Want Day”” she said.

“That’s good, because that’s just what I’m doing” he retorted.

“Yes, but you do that every day” Ellie pointed out.

“Quite right” he agreed.

“Shouldn’t everyone’s day be like that?”

“I don’t think it’s about prohibition” she said.

“It’s more about awareness.”

“Well, I’m aware it’s about the Nanny state” he retorted.

“I think it’s more about getting people to think about their health and wellbeing” Ellie said in her best patronizing tone as she patted his hand.

“Well, my health and wellbeing would be served by not trying to make me feel guilty about food all the sodding time?” he replied and laughed out loud.

“I’ll get you some more toast, shall I?”

“Yes please” he replied with a grin.

Uncanny Tales – (081) Anger Management

 

Wayne Evans was up before the Beak at the Magistrates Court in the southern town of Abbottsford facing public order charges following a road rage incident while his brother Matt waited outside.

“How did you get on?” Matt asked when his brother left the court building and walked down the steps.

“A £400 fine” he replied, “and the judge said I need to go on a bloody anger management course”.

“Well, that’s not so bad then” Matt replied.

“Anger bloody management! I ask you” he ranted.

“What you need is a good woman in your life” Matt suggested.

“As a calming influence”

“Are you mad?” Wayne exploded.

“It’s having a bloody woman in my life that got me so angry in the first place.”

Uncanny Tales – (080) Traffic Exclamation

 

On the west side of Downshire is Eastchapel. a quiet medieval village living in the shadow of its noisy neighbour, the Industrial powerhouse of Northchapel and Lily Rayner was driving his six-year-old daughter Kasia to School, which was on the other side of the village, when the traffic slowed to a crawl because of a cyclist before it came to a complete standstill.

“I think we’re going to be late sweetie” she said and Kasia tutted audibly and retorted.

“Bloody traffic”

“Kasia, has Uncle Ray been dropping you at school?”

“Yes mummy” she replied and giggled.

Uncanny Tales – (079) Calming Rage

 

On the west side of Downshire is Eastchapel. a quiet medieval village living in the shadow of its noisy neighbour, the Industrial powerhouse of Northchapel and William Rayner was driving his fourteen-year-old son Liam to School, which was on the other side of the village, when the traffic slowed to a crawl because of a cyclist so he turned the radio on which was tuned to Classic FM.

“Why do you listen to classical music dad when you’re driving?”

“Because it helps me with the stress of driving, it keeps me calm” he replied as he wound the window down.

“Get out of the fucking road you Lycra clad twat!”

Uncanny Tales – (074) The Serendipitous Find

 

John and Sharon Daly were moving to Downshire and as they were unfamiliar with the County, they took a week’s holiday to get the lay of the land and look for properties within a 20-mile radius of Abbeyvale, where they would both be working.

It was on their third day when they drove to the south of Northchapel and got lost and ended up in the beautiful village of Chapel Hill.

There was an expanse of green at the centre of the village complete with duckpond and a weeping willow tree.

On the north side of the green was the pub, The Woodcutters Tavern and attached to the side of the pub there was a Stephenson’s general store and post office, across the green from the pub was the church, St Peter’s, with the vicarage to one side and a row of shops ran alongside the road on the West of the green, Buckley’s Greengrocer and Fruiterer’s, Addisons Bakery, Harvey’s Pharmacy, Bizzie Lizzie Florist, Mazzones Hairdressers, Harrisons Hardware and Boddingtons Butchers.

“It seems to have everything here” Sharon said.

“And its lovely”

“Well lets walk over to the Pub and we can go online to see if we can actually afford to live here.”

As they crossed the green, they noticed on the farthest side, at the end of the lane, what appeared to be a “for sale” board.

John and Sharon looked at each other, shrugged and walked towards it.

When they reached the end of the lane they stopped and looked at the board.

“Owen and Hargreaves of Abbottsford,” it read.

John took out a pen and paper and started to write down the phone number.

“Hello there,” said a disembodied voice.

John looked up and saw an elderly lady emerge from behind some shrubbery.

“Did you want to see round the house?” she said removing her gardening glove.

“Well, we haven’t come from the agent,” said Sharon hesitantly.

“We were just out for a drive and stumbled upon the village.”    

“Well, you might as well see it now you’re here,” she said with a smile and opened the gate.

“Come on in” she gestured.

“Come on in I’m Isabelle” she offered her hand and cocked her head.

“Oh, I’m John Daly” he said taking her hand.

“This is my wife, Sharon.”

After introductions they were given the full tour of the house and gardens ending with drinks on the patio.

“I only put the house on the market yesterday” she told them.

“You’re the first to view”

She then told them that since the children, she had six, had grown up and moved away and her husband had “passed on” the house was just too big for her now.

So, she was going to go and live with her daughter in Canada.

“I have the estate agent’s details in the house, it gives all the room sizes and such, I’ll just pop in and get it” she said disappearing through the French doors.

“What do you think?” whispered Sharon.

“It’s lovely” he replied in a whisper “It’s perfect.” 

The house was called “Hill View Cottage” and was nestled in the hillside amidst the remnants of the ancient forest, which was once draped across the whole of the southern landscape.

The garden sloped gently away from the house and as they sat on Isabelle’s patio, they looked out across the valley to the distant town of Abbeyvale, and beyond to the forested hills on the far side of the valley.

“This is the one” she said.

“Let’s make an offer then” John agreed.

Uncanny Tales – (070) Relative Complications

 

Christina Smith lived in the idyllic village of Mornington-By-Mere, situated in the beautiful Finchbottom Vale and was very happy, and regularly satisfied.

That was until her sister Katie came to stay following her divorce, and she was very depressed, and didn’t want to go, she just stayed at home and watched trashy TV, and it was cramping Christina’s style.

However, salvation came in the form of new neighbour Connor Rigby who had shown a good deal of interest in Katie, heavily encouraged by her sister.

He invited her round to his house for dinner which Katie was originally keen on, relatively, but come the night, her bottle went.

When she appeared in the lounge she was immaculately dressed and beautifully made up.

“Wow” Christina said, “you look stunning.”

“I look frightful” she responded morosely.

“No, you don’t” she reassured her “Connor will trip over his tongue when he sees you.”

Christina slipped on some shoes and said.

“Come on sexy I’ll escort you to his.”

She took her arm and as they walked up his path she turned to her sister and asked with panic in her voice.

“What if he thinks I look frightful?”

“He won’t think that because you look gorgeous” Christina said to her softly.

“I hope so” she replied forlornly.

They continued walking up to Connor’s door and Christina rang the bell and it was opened in moments.

“Hello” Connor said cheerfully.

“Hello Connor” Katie said glumly as she stepped into the house.

“Have a great time Katie” she called after her, but Katie didn’t reply, and Connor gave her a look.

“Crisis of confidence” she whispered.

“Oh, I see,” he said sagely.

Connor assured her he would massage her ego and ply her with drink until she cheered up, and they laughed and then she wished him a nice evening and returned home.

Once inside she resumed her seat and refilled her glass.

At some point during the evening Christina fell asleep, she woke up just after two o’clock, and only then because she needed a pee.

After relieving herself she turned off the TV and began tidying up prior to going to bed.

About ten minutes later the front door opened and Katie tottered into the lounge carrying her tights and knickers

“So, Connor liked you then” Christina asked as she plopped down on the sofa.

“He did,” she said smiling “three times.”

SIGHTS, SOUNDS, SMELLS, TASTE AND TOUCH # 4

 

Sights, sounds, smells, taste, and touch

It’s funny the things that cause the memories to arise

When all of a sudden memory of my sister flood back

It’s Cilla Black, Port and Lemon and Devon Skies

FAMILY BIOLOGY

 

I had to be brought up by

My non bio family

As my biological parents

Gave me a rash sadly

SIGHTS, SOUNDS, SMELLS, TASTE AND TOUCH # 4

 

Sights, sounds, smells, taste, and touch

It’s funny the things that cause the memories to arise

When all of a sudden memory of my sister flood back

It’s Cilla Black, Port and Lemon and Devon Skies

PRAYING LIKE MUM

 

“I’ll say my prayers like mummy does”

He said and soon left his Gran was agog

“Oh God, oh God, oh please don’t stop

Oh God, oh Jesus, yes, yes, Oh my God

LARCENY STREET

 

I didn't know that my dad

Was a street furniture larcenist

But at my dad’s home, were

All the signs that I’d missed

WHENEVER I DO ANY DECORATING

 

Whenever I do any decorating

I always choose my stepladder

And the simple reason for that is

I don't get on with my real ladder

THE LAST THING DAD SAID

 

The last thing Dad said

Before kicking the bucket

Was “How far do you think

I can kick this bucket?”

THE HEART OF A LION

 

My granddad has

The heart of a Lion

And a lifetime ban

From Woburn

MY GRANDFATHER INVENTED

 

My grandfather invented,

And you might well scoff,

The cold air balloon, well

It never really took off

STALKING CLAIM

 

My brother, who is a BS talker,

Claims to have a stalker

My wife said it was different to see

As his trouser were too baggy

MY BROTHER SWALLOWED MY TORCH

 

My brother swallowed my torch

But I wasn’t too upset though

Because his little face lit up

And his eyes were all aglow

FAMILY SUPPORT

 

The only people who want to see me

Succeed, are my family

Everyone else sees me as competition,

And that’s the reality